


Little Wolf Lost

by Pavonharten



Category: Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Coming of Age, Culture Shock, Dark, Desert, Disturbing Themes, Drama, Día de los Muertos | Day of the Dead, F/M, Gen, Gen Work, Guilt, Lone Wolf Ending (Life is Strange 2), M/M, Mostly Gen, Neo-Western, Parallel Universes, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness, Survival, Symbolism, Tragedy, Unrequited Crush, Violence, Western, wolf brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27319963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pavonharten/pseuds/Pavonharten
Summary: This story focuses on Daniel's life as a result of the Lone Wolf ending, spanning the years he spends in Mexico following Sean's death. Along the way, he lives with and protects a ranch family from the Sonora cartel, pickpockets tourists, struggles to survive on the streets amid gang violence, and helps a losing luchador gain prominence--all while grappling with intense guilt and shame over the careless mistake that cost Sean his life.NOTE: This story will loosely serve as a parallel to my other fic, 'The Beaver Creek Years', which focuses on the Parting Ways ending. Both are linked together with some common scenes and an original character, so if you read each story, you'll see where the realities intersect; however, it's not necessary to read both to understand them.
Relationships: Daniel Diaz (Life is Strange)/Original Female Character(s), Daniel Diaz (Life is Strange)/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Prologue: Exile

**Author's Note:**

> For the full experience of this fic, be sure to check out the songs I've included in each chapter, or check out the soundtrack I've curated on Spotify here: https://spoti.fi/3mCP0Yb

The sun shone hot in the noon desert sky, sending an unbearable heatwave across the barren plains that stretched for miles. In some ways, the aura of warmth given off by that distant ball of flame seemed to hold within it the voices of comforting ancestral spirits. In others, it choked the life from everything below. And yet within this searing tomb of sand, many forms of life had learned to thrive nonetheless. Snakes slithered uncoiled throughout the golden dust, rattling proudly in the throes of their prey. Scorpions crawled through cattle skeletons from one cactus to another. Jackrabbits bounded up from their burrows in search of food. Hawks hunted. Coyotes howled.

But all of that fell silent as a whisper in the aftermath of bullets and human screams from beyond the great, gated wall to the north. The only sound left piercing the heat now was that of a lone eagle up on high encircling his sacred sun, bolstered by the gentle breath of forgotten Aztec gods and the wind that echoed their story. And far, far below his wingspan, bridging that long and seemingly uncrossable barrier between Earth and sky, a child whispered in prayer.

 _“_ _Padre Nuestro que estás en el Cielo, Santificado sea tu nombre, venga a nosotros tu Reino. Hágase tu voluntad así en la Tierra como en el Cielo. Danos hoy el pan de cada día. Perdona nuestras ofensas como nosotros perdonamos a los que nos ofenden. No nos dejes caer en la tentación y líbranos del mal. Amén.”_

* * *

Daniel awoke in the dark and shivered. Shivered, despite the familiar arms still locked over his tender frame. They felt like bars now. Like iron. Like the rusted metal figures back in Away, and yet it was the only cage he was ever happy to be trapped in. He shifted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he regained full consciousness. Something else felt odd. The once soft, warm lap on which he’d rested his head earlier had grown cold and hard in the hours since daylight too. But he didn’t care. And he dared not open his eyes. _Just a few minutes longer,_ he thought. _I’m not leaving you, Sean. I’m right here. Always. I promise._

A painful lump grew in his throat now, ready to burst as he began to remember everything that happened that morning. Recalled everything his brother had said in those final fated moments, as well as his own stupid, ignorant replies. _Now it’s my turn to take care of us, Sean. Nothing stops the Wolf Brothers. Nothing._ He sniffled and held those arms ever closer to him, forcing the stiffened hands over his chest. Those dead, cold, blood-stained, rigor mortis hands. Daniel opened his eyes.

“Sean?” he whimpered in the dark. “Sean, please wake up…” He turned his head from the steering column of the car to gaze up at his brother’s face. From this angle, bathed in the soft pale blue of the moonlight, he almost looked angelic. Like a saint. Like one of those Renaissance paintings on a church ceiling. So close to God, yet so far from his brother. It didn’t make sense that they were separated again. It wasn’t fair. Daniel searched his mind for answers, but came up with nothing. His own cries had echoed in his ears for what seemed like an eternity that day until he’d at last fallen asleep, still desperate for a sign, desperate to know the reason. _Why?_ _Why…_

But it was all bullshit. That’s all it was, right? _Right Sean? You told me heaven was bullshit. That people don’t go anywhere when they die, they’re just…gone._ He didn’t believe it. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to. _Because you’re here. You’re right here, Sean. And we’re together now, that’s all that matters. That’s all that ever mattered…right? Fuck…_

His brother’s eyes were still slightly open, though glossed over now. The lively color in those cheeks had since faded into a pale hue, making him appear almost white. Gone was the warm golden color in his skin, as if the setting sun had taken his spirit with it. The blood on his face and neck had dried up, much like the barren desert that surrounded them. _So dark. So lifeless. So cold._ Daniel couldn’t take it anymore.

“Wake up, please just wake up! Come on, say something, anything, you asshole!” he yelled and cried, shaking his brother’s arms, pounding his little fists into that unnaturally hard chest. “Where are you? Come back to me! I’m so scared, Sean! W-we were supposed to go to Puerto Lobos together, and now…it’s all my fault, isn’t it?” he whimpered. “It’s all my fault! But you lied. You lied to me, Sean! You said I wasn’t a monster. You said! Why did you have to do that to me, huh? HUH!” he sobbed. “I’m sorry for being such a bad brother… please call me _enano_ one more time and tell me I’m good? Please just tell I’m good, I have to know I’m good and you forgive me like you always do! You remember, Sean? _Enano?_ Say it! Call me _enano_ and say you’ll never leave, because nothing’s supposed to tear the Wolf Brothers apart!” Daniel slumped back over as he wept, burying his face in his brother’s lap again. “I love you, Sean. I love you so much…”

[ ](https://imgur.com/PXpMqxD)

Minutes passed, then hours as he lay there entwined with the cold, stiffened corpse of the one person who had meant the most to him in his short life. And maybe it had been days. Maybe it had been weeks. Months, or even years. Decades. Centuries. The young wolf could not be sure any perception of time was accurate during those long moments he spent collecting himself in that car. But he resolved to do it. After a while, he stopped crying. He stopped talking. And he stopped slipping back into the old routines of prayer that miserable witch Lisbeth Fischer had forced upon him so long ago. For desperate as he was to have his beloved brother back, nothing was going to change what happened.

Sean would never wake up. Sean would never answer his cries. Sean would never be there anymore to guide him, to tell him he was all right, to forgive his many mistakes, or to shield him from the dark horrors of the world that—now—were all too crystal clear in the tears that froze onto his face. _How the fuck am I supposed to get to Puerto Lobos now?_ It was the only question left that mattered. The only one that Daniel could reasonably answer himself.

“There’s no going back, is there? Not ever...” he breathed as he laid in Sean’s lap, staring up at the few bullet holes in the car ceiling and upholstery. “So get up, _enano_. You have to keep moving. Keep moving, just like he would. Just like you wanted. Just like you promised.”

Outside, wind howled in the distance. The sands shifted, swirling around to create ghostly apparitions that danced like demons in the dead of night. Wild coyote packs could be heard from somewhere far off, screeching and yipping as they bounded after prey. And up there out the windows, far above the star-scattered stratosphere, the full moon hung high in the desert sky, calling the lone wolf forth unto his destiny. Daniel at last sat up and pried himself away from Sean’s body, taking care to lay those stiff arms back to where they had fallen at the moment of his death. He took one last, long look at his brother, planting a kiss on his frozen cheek before using his little fingers to close those eyes forever. Then he got to work.

First, Daniel opened the passenger side door and hopped out into the beaten sands. A cool rush of air sent shivers over his bare torso. _Fuck, that’s cold!_ He’d almost forgotten how tattered and useless his old Space Mission shirt was, but it became particularly apparent in the freezing desert night. _Oh, right…it used to get like this back in Away._ He needed something for warmth if he was going to be on the road, and quick. He thought back to the few remaining possessions he and Sean had taken with them, but there didn’t seem to be any spare layers of clothes. What little they did have were the bare necessities intended for Mexico. Aside from that, the police had thrown out the rest when they were captured. _Man, I knew I should’ve taken our winter stuff when I left Humboldt. Unless…_ Sean’s hoodie. _No. I can’t take that. He needs it…no he doesn’t, stop that! He’s gone. And he’d want you to have it…plus it smells like him. Maybe it’ll make me feel less lonely at night._

“Just get the stupid bags first,” Daniel sighed to himself. He opened the back passenger door to remove their backpacks, then took a quick inventory of what he would need. Most of it was already in Sean’s bag—the money, the blanket, a canteen, a tent, and a pocket knife. Other items were things he wanted to keep. Sean’s sketchbook, his pencil case, the only photo Sean had taken of him with Jacob’s camera on the beach in Cali. _Never forget where you came from, or the journey it took to get where you are,_ he thought. That was one of the most important things he remembered their dad having told them. He decided to leave the items in his own backpack, aside from Mushroom’s bandana, Chris’s cape, and another particular odd item. _Damn, I collected a lot of pine cones. Okay…maybe I’ll just keep one._ Next came the hard part, and the thing he most didn’t want to do.

He would have to remove Sean’s body from the car to get the rest.

“Oh god,” he breathed, falling to his knees. Tears were stinging his face again. “I can’t,” he shook his head. “I can’t do it, I just can’t!” _But you can’t just leave him here either. It’s not right. I’m not letting you sit there for the coyotes and buzzards to pick you apart._ He would have to bury his brother. “You were supposed to come with me…fuck it,” the boy said, swiping his tears away as he stepped to his feet. “You’re going whether you like it or not, asshole. Or at least part of you.” _I have to remember him,_ the young wolf thought. _I don’t ever want to forget. So I’ll just take a few things._ He trudged his way to the driver’s side of the car, still freezing down to the bone, teeth chattering as he opened the door and cradled himself. “How the hell am I supposed to do this…it’s wrong,” he sniffed. “I shouldn’t be burying my own fucking brother.” He unhooked the seatbelt first, then took a moment to assess how he was going to move the body. _Why can’t this all just be a bad dream. Why can’t I wake up? I hate this._

Daniel leaned into the car and reached around his waist, attempting to move him. Sean wouldn’t budge. He then tried twisting the legs out first, but that didn’t work either. His brother fell at an angle, head smashing against the side of the passenger seat. An audible _crack_ sounded as the bones broke in his neck. _Gross._ The boy removed his boots and grabbed onto his ankles with as iron a grip as he could manage and pulled. Still no luck. He strained with all his might, with every last ounce of physical strength he had left in him. It was no use. _Why are dead bodies so heavy? Figures. You always were a stubborn ass anyway._ He stepped back a moment to think. _Should I? I really don’t want to. Especially after today…_

“Whatever, screw it,” the boy sniffled, extending a hand outward to concentrate. The winds around him at once began to die down and shift as he focused his power on Sean’s body, raising him up gently to pull him free from the car. He forced a smile in remembrance of all the times they had trained together over the past year, honing his abilities until he at last gained full control over them on his own. _Man, I’m really going to miss that. It was never just my secret. It was ours, and we did it together. I’ll never forget what you taught me. I swear._ Once he’d fully removed the body and placed his brother on the ground before him, he knelt down to hug him one last time. Then he took what he needed, and all the parts he knew Sean would want him to have. His eye patch. Finn’s bandana. The xSquad hoodie full of various stains and holes, which took some doing to remove. And lastly, their father’s lighter with the Puerto Lobos crest. _Almost done. Just one more thing I have to do._

Daniel rose up in staunch determination and backed away from the corpse, pulling Sean’s black hoodie triumphantly over his head. Something about it made him feel powerful, as if his brother’s spirit were there to envelop him in an immediate rush of warmth. As expected, it fit quite large on his tiny frame, but he cherished it all the more for that. A further array of scents wafted up from the material to greet his nose when he drew up the hood. It smelled like him. It smelled like blood. Like campfires. It smelled like grass stains and gravel, like the ocean and the forest air in Humboldt, like weed mixed with fresh rain, like dusty hotels and Mushroom, like all the endless nights and days they’d spent on the road both together and apart. Most of all, it smelled like _home_.

As Daniel glanced up at the moon behind them shining brightly in the summer night, he recalled the many times they’d howled at it on their travels. Somehow, Sean had always thought it might keep them on track, that they would always find their way no matter what if they kept moving, kept howling, kept marching on toward the southern horizon. That maybe, what they were really howling for was a sense of belonging in the world, and perhaps their father would hear them and guide them on their journey from the heavens afar. After all, he was with the Great Wolf Ancestors now, and the Ancestors would always watch over them. _Or something corny like that._ Sean always did love his stories. And Daniel loved them more, because his brother had loved them. _Maybe it's not bullshit._

The boy looked back on the scene now, gazing at the barren ground beneath. It was time. Taking the same equal care he had afforded Sean’s body in removing it from the car, he extended a hand once more and focused his efforts on the hardened sands below his brother. The air shifted and blew upwards as he began to disturb the topsoil, creating a path for his body to sink slowly into the earth. A deep quaking could be felt underneath his feet as the ground shifted and shook below to make way for the impromptu burial. Daniel closed his eyes and followed the feeling downward, further and further until he was satisfied the hole he’d dug was deep enough.

 _No way are any hunters ever going to get to you now,_ he thought, smiling in the knowledge that Sean had at last completed his final journey home. _You’re in Mexico now. Just like you always wanted._ _We made it._ He let go and allowed his arm to fall at his side with a sigh before stepping forward. The hole was rather crude and misshapen, but it would have to do. As he looked on in reverence at the scene before him, an old memory came to mind of Mushroom’s burial in the Willamette forest.

 _“Is that it?”_ Daniel had asked.

_“Well…unless you want to say something…”_

“I’ll never forget you, Sean Diaz,” he whispered tearfully. “Ever! I promise. You were the best brother I could’ve asked for. I’m just sorry I couldn’t be that for you,” he cried. “I love you. And I’ll miss you so much! I don’t know if heaven is bullshit or not…but if you're up there, don’t you dare stop watching over me! Because I’ll always be your _enano_. Always.”

Daniel felt colder now as the wind swept over him. Colder than he’d ever been. More numb than he’d ever been. Far lonelier than he’d ever been. With a trembling hand, he reached inside the zipper pocket of his brother’s hoodie and dug out their father’s lighter. Even if he did bury Sean, he began to worry that wouldn’t be enough. Someone, somewhere, might find him eventually. Especially with the car sitting just off the side of the main road. And then, who knew what they would do with the body? He hated sacrificing their father’s lighter for such an act too, but it needed to be done to truly end their journey. He couldn’t give anyone else the satisfaction of catching them ever again.

“I’ll never stop howling,” he breathed. “I swear. And I’ll remember everything you taught me,” he nodded. Everything…” He flicked on the old lighter, the spark creating a dancing flame that illuminated his torn face. For the briefest of moments, the young wolf appeared much older than his ten years. Because deep down, he knew that after this, there would be no turning back. He would become a lone wolf in the truest sense, abandoning all he had ever known to build a new life for himself in Mexico. _Exile._

Daniel felt an eternal debt needed to be paid for what he had done, and so he would go wherever the spirit of Sean now guided him. That meant he could never again return to any part of their old life. His brother was dead. He had blood on his name, and there was no washing away that stain of shame. He couldn’t go back to his grandparents. He couldn’t go back to Chris. He couldn’t go back to Jacob, or the Humboldt crew. He couldn’t go back to Lyla. He couldn’t set foot on United States soil ever again, nor did he want to. There was too much pain, too many memories of sacrifice. Too many people who, at the end of it all, would rightly judge him for what he did. 

With a deep breath, he dropped the lighter. He extended his hand. Sean’s body immediately engulfed in flames that shot upward out of the grave in a plume of fire and smoke that reached as high as the border wall they had crossed that morning. And Daniel howled. He howled so loud and for so long, his lungs burned and his throat shattered. He howled until his voice fell hoarse and he couldn’t anymore.

Then he grabbed up Sean’s backpack and made his way back to the main road, a living dead boy in an unfamiliar land, bound for the first set of lights he saw in the distance across the barren plains. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know this first segment is pretty heavy and dark af, but in all honesty, it's meant to be (and if it's any consolation, yes I was literally sobbing as I wrote this chapter lol). The Lone Wolf ending is just gut-wrenching. 
> 
> Now, how I came up with this story. I was heavily inspired by western and folk music I came across, which gave me more ideas for the desert setting in which a good chunk of the first chapters will be spent. I was also inspired by the X-Men movie 'Logan', which I believe is arguably the best of the whole franchise. So in some ways, this is what's known as a neo-western with supernatural elements and a slower feel. I've also been inspired over the years by the Mexican 'Dia de los Muertos' (Day of the Dead) holiday. So I'll be including some elements of that as well, especially as it ties into my other fic The Beaver Creek Years; basically, the dream version of himself Daniel encounters in that story is the one whose life is portrayed here.
> 
> I can't say how often I'll be updating this fic yet as I'm still working on Beaver Creek Years, but when I get mentally stuck with that one, I'll be writing more of this one. So if you're new here, 1) welcome! and 2) I suggest reading that fic as well since they will tie together in some aspects. And if you came here from reading Beaver Creek Years, thank you for sticking with me, and I hope you enjoy this fic as much as that one :)


	2. The Crossing

[ ](https://imgur.com/HNnBBaG)

_I remember the first time I killed as a child. I was still just a pup. The ghost of my father and his father stood beside me, breath heavy and dripping wet with saliva. I remember. I remember the fresh taste of blood pouring into my mouth when my prey cried out for its freedom. The strength in my jaws as I tore through hardened layers of flesh to reach the softer parts beneath. Shredding muscles and their sinews apart. And I chewed my way through. All the way through, until the bones cracked. Then I kept chewing._

_I remember. I remember the locked stance of my four limbs, the beating of my victim’s heart slowing to a crawl against my tender gums as it wriggled in the grasp of my weighted maw. And still, I bit down. I bit down harder than I dared. I sunk my teeth deep and breathed in the cool night air of the forest until at last I’d sucked out all of its teeming life. I remember._

_I remember the winds ruffling my thick winter coat. I remember the deep crimson matted in my fur. The red stains upon my face. I was no longer a pup that day. I remember the scents and sounds of the world coming alive around me as I grew, strengthening my marrow. I remember the owls above keeping watch, the silent judges of the wild. And I remember at last opening my eyes to gaze down at the life I took. The life of one bigger than I. The life of the one I loved. The life of my only brother. The life of my only friend._

_I remember the first time I howled at the moon. I’ve howled every night since. I’ll never stop howling…_

* * *

The hounds of hell were after him. He knew it. He could feel it in the depths of his bones as readily as he felt his own power, those shadows trailing behind him in the desert sands. Shadows without physical form or faces, cast by nothing. He felt them in the tightness of his chest. He felt it in the pits of his stomach. With every labored footstep, every seizing breath. There was a wrongness inside him. A meanness. A monster lurking in the dark, waiting for its chance to spring out and consume his soul like a hungry pack. _Don’t feed the beast._

Daniel had walked for what felt like miles. Maybe a hundred. Maybe two hundred. And all the while, the many discordant voices of memories past haunted him as he limped on over that desolate path toward the flickering lights on the horizon. Lights that offered hope, that offered solace. A shelter from the encroaching shadows. Or a place of warmth, at least, from the cold front sweeping through. Everything but freedom. _My feet feel like they’re dragging chains._ Thunder boomed in the sky overhead, followed by distant flashes of lightning that briefly scattered the shadows around him before the pitch black returned. Everything else fell quiet, save for the coyotes howling in the wind. The darkness looked darker now. The cold felt colder. The pain grew greater. Daniel shivered in fear.

_“Sean…am I…a monster?”_

_“Nothing is wrong with you. You’re just…different.”_

Was that all it was? He couldn’t be sure anymore. Over the course of their long journey to the southern border, Sean had preserved their sacred connection as brothers while protecting him, allowing Daniel to be himself, even as he downplayed the extent of damage they’d caused. It didn’t matter if they stole. It didn’t matter if they broke-and-entered, or if their actions hurt people. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing except getting to Puerto Lobos. Sean’s attitude had made that very clear. Even if it meant lying to Daniel about things like his eye being fine, because for whatever reason, his brother felt he needed to be brave up until his very last moments. Then he’d pussed out. _Stupid._

All of that pushing and pulling had angered and frustrated Daniel for quite some time. Sean had put their entire lives at risk, and for what? Just to give up at the end? _You’re not my brother,_ he recalled thinking. _My brother doesn’t give up. My brother doesn't quit. What the fuck dude? We’re the Wolf Brothers. We came all this way. We can still make it. We’re right here, and now you’re going to let us be separated? If you won’t save us, I will._ And then…

The boy tripped and fell to his knees. His mouth was getting dry. The weight of the backpack had sunk into his shoulders almost as deep as the guilt rumbling through his starving stomach. He set it down and dug out the canteen, which was still full from the previous day when Sean had filled it back in Away for their journey. The water would taste like metal, he knew, but it was better than nothing. A crushed, half-melted Chock-O-Crisp lay buried at the bottom of the bag beneath it. He grabbed that too. As the boy knelt there in the freezing, twenty-five degree night, eagerly feasting on what would be his only meal for the day, a soft voice entered his mind.

_“Oh, my young wolf. What will you do, now that you’ve been cast out into the wilderness just as Cain was? For God said unto him when he had taken Abel’s life, ‘Listen! Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the soil. And so, cursed shall you be by the soil that gaped its mouth to take your brother’s blood from your hand. If you till the soil, it will no longer give you strength. A restless wanderer shall you be on the Earth.’”_

“No…” Daniel dropped the Chock-O-Crisp. The hunger immediately left him. He snatched up the silver canteen and put it to his lips to drink the metallic water, feeling a cool rush that swept through his insides and dug down into his stomach, where it twisted his guts in pain and shame. No. He was still hungry, but he’d lost the will to eat. And Lisbeth’s voice taunted him all the more from beyond the grave for his failures.

_“If only you had relied on the light of the Lord to guide you, my child. If only you had forsaken the wickedness of your nature and used your gifts in service to God, you would not have been cast out of His glorious Garden. Now, He has truly forsaken you. Now, you are all alone in this Hell.”_

“Shut the fuck up!” Daniel shouted, rising to his feet. “You can’t hurt me anymore. Fuck you and your stupid God!”

 _“Blasphemy,”_ the voice whispered, fading away from his mind with the rumbling thunder. _“Blasphemy…”_

“You're the heathen,” he whimpered, wiping away tears. Daniel grabbed up the Chock-O-Crisp again, eagerly peeling away its wrapper to finish off the crumbs that remained. “But I know what I did. I’ll always know…” He looked back again in the direction those lights in the distance, having lost sight of them for a moment. He hoped it wasn’t just a mirage, some hallucination brought on by the crippling emptiness in his stomach, or the dehydration that by now was surely setting in. _God, I wish I could hear Sean’s voice. Just one more time. Or Mom’s. Or Claire and Stephen’s. Even Lyla._ Daniel worried, too, about what he was going to say once he returned to civilization. “I can’t even speak Spanish.” _Don’t even think about that yet, dude. Worry about getting there first._

The young wolf finished the contents of the canteen and willed himself to continue on through the darkness. Continued on, though he feared a great many things now. Both things he had never feared before, as well as those he never would have if his brother were still with him. To guide him, to nurture him. To hug him. To tell him that everything was going to be okay. To tell him he still wasn’t a monster. But all of that had changed in one unholy instant.

Now, all Daniel had to survive on were memories. Bits and pieces of conversations he recalled of the people he’d met. At least he still had his wits, even if they seemed to be waning along his trek through the harsh desert. He still had his brother’s belongings, which were at least something. And most importantly, he still had all the wilderness survival techniques he’d learned along the way from Sean, the Humboldt crew, and even the residents of Away. _I can do this,_ he reminded himself. _I can get to Puerto Lobos. Just…don’t think about anything else until you can rest._

The lights were getting closer now. He could feel their power burning warm through his being, a sharp contrast from whatever hell beasts followed him in the cold dark behind. If such hell beasts were even real. And though his feet dragged on, his back and shoulders ached, and his stomach felt empty, he knew something or someone awaited him in that warm light. He tried to imagine what it might be. A warm bed in a hotel? A convenience store with food? Hell, he’d even take a dirty, pissy, open gas station bathroom at this point. Or even a wall to sit up against. Anything to soothe the exhaustion overtaking his body. Daniel walked on for another mile or so, until at long last he finally arrived outside a small gated, wooden fence at the source of those flickering lights.

“Guess it’s a ranch farm,” he smiled thinly. But it was the middle of the night. _No way would anyone be awake at this hour._ Not that he even knew what time it was. _Probably shouldn't disturb them._ The flickering lamp post above him, he noticed, was connected to a powerline overhead. It lit the sprawling, dusty pen and the winding dirt road well, but no lights seemed to be on the house. However, another was positioned over the entrance of a small barn on the other side of the yard. _That’s my best bet, and I’m too tired for anything else. Might as well sleep there and figure the rest out in the morning._

He staggered slowly around the perimeter of the pen, keeping an eye out in case anyone happened to be outside. There seemed to be no one. _So far, so good._ He squinted his eyes around in the darkness beyond, keeping his ears peeled for any noises. _Wonder what kind of animals they have here._ He noticed a small chicken coop aside the barn as he drew closer to the set of large wooden doors. Hushed clucks and the rustling of feathers could be heard from inside. The young boy continued tiptoeing his way past. Something hissed in the bushes at him at the entrance, startling him as it scurried away. _Aw, poor scared kitty! Hope I get to see you in the morning._

Finally, he came to the barn. As the light above him buzzed, Daniel hesitated, pressing his forehead against the wooden door. He thought of Sean. He tried to remember what his voice sounded like. The smooth tone of it, the way he spoke whenever he comforted him. The boy closed his eyes and dug deep in his memory, concentrating on his breath until it came to him. _Don’t worry, enano. You’ve got this._

“Thanks Sean,” he whispered. “I really hope so.” He quietly lifted the latch on the door and slipped inside, closing it behind him. Soft nickers and whinnies broke through the dark beyond the slivered light that shone through the slats. _Horses? Oh wow, I’ve never seen a horse up close before!_ _I’ll try not to bother them._ “Sorry guys, sorry!” he breathed, creeping past the first two stalls on his right. The middle one seemed to be vacant. _Finally._ Once he’d piled up enough hay to keep himself comfortable for the night, he slung the backpack off his weary shoulders and set it against the wall. At last, the young wolf plopped down and closed his eyes, drifting off to a swift sleep.

_I remember the first time we howled together…_

[ ](https://imgur.com/2G0GN3O)


	3. Shelter

Daniel awoke to the warmth of slivered sunlight on his face. Somewhere off in the distance, a rooster crowed. What truly woke him, however, was the donkey now braying and stomping its hooves beside him. The boy jolted upward, stricken from a dream between wake and sleep. He instinctively reached beside him, then beneath him when he felt the shock of emptiness. _No._ Hay was rustled and the ground disturbed. Soft hands searched the rougher textures of the space around him in a cold panic as he sifted powerlessly through the golden dust and straw. _Something is missing._

“Sean…” he breathed, plopping back into a fetal ball as the tears came. Daniel became aware of something else, too. Disparate voices could be heard just beyond the aging wooden walls of the barn, voices that spoke in a language foreign to him. He sniffed in the stifling heat as he listened with closed eyes and thudding heart, searched their words and phrasing for anything familiar, any bits and pieces he might have picked up prior. _At least I know it’s Spanish._ The voices drew closer to the outside wall as footsteps crunched over gravel and dirt. A young girl seemed to be arguing with an older man. _Her father?_

Daniel pushed himself up from the hay pile. Lines of light emitting through gaps between the shoddily-placed wooden boards of the barn offered a narrow glimpse of what lay outside. Curiosity getting the best of him, the boy leaned forward to take a closer look. The young girl now ranting up a storm appeared to be about his age, maybe a year or so older. Her dark eyes burnt like hot coals as she followed her father around the yard rather mercilessly, kicking up dust with every footstep. Silky black, shoulder-length tresses of hair flowed in the wind behind her. The man brushed her off, refusing to listen. She didn’t budge.

The donkey beside Daniel had taken to rustling a metal pail in the corner, banging it against the wood enclosure of the pen in an infuriating rhythm of clinks as it gulped down swallow after swallow of water. _Ugh, can you please stop. I’m trying to see what’s going on._ He squinted harder in the harsh sunlight through the cracks. The father and daughter duo had migrated further to the right behind the chicken coop now, and he appeared to be facing her. Rather than short, dismissive phrases, he seemed to be speaking in full sentences now. All the while, the girl kept her hands placed firmly on her hips and leaned in, firing back a series of rants that sounded to Daniel like curses. Her hands gestured in the air a few times, and soon enough, she was chasing after him again. The boy backed away when they moved in his direction. Then he heard a gun cock behind him. _Shit._

“ _Manos arriba!_ ” a young male voice demanded. The boy didn’t understand, but he damn well knew what to do when a firearm was pointed at him. His arms flew above his head. He dared not turn around yet. “ _Levántate despacio._ ”

“I’m sorry!” Daniel panicked. He clasped his hands behind his head. _That’s what I’m supposed to do, right?_

“ _Levántate!_ ”

“S-Stand up?” he stammered, heart thudding in his chest.

“ _Si muchacho,_ on your feet!”

“O-Okay…” The boy did as instructed, stumbling backward a bit over the hay as the male figure entered the stall behind him and snatched up his backpack. _Sean’s backpack._ Daniel felt a familiar tingling sensation coursing through his veins now. He felt threatened. Helpless. Scared. Cornered. _Trapped._ Like a defenseless wolf in a cage. And he knew what always tended to happen in situations where he felt like this. The urge to act was overwhelming, the beast inside him howling to be set free. And he wanted to do it. To use his power. To throw the gun, take back his belongings, and run. But he didn’t. Because he knew that if he did, he wouldn’t survive for long out in the desert. It was time to follow the old rules again. _Hide your power._

“ _Retroceder!_ ” the young teen spoke firmly.

“Retro…you mean back?” Daniel asked.

“ _Si,_ toward me _estúpido!_ ”

The boy backed slowly out of the stall and onto the dusty main floor, where the teen immediately seized him by the hood of his— _Sean’s_ —sweatshirt and marched him over past the onlooking horses toward the entrance of the barn.

“Look, I don’t speak Spanish, so if I don’t understand-”

“Shut up!” the teen snapped, his breath hot against the back of Daniel’s already sweating neck. He kicked the large wooden door as they came to it, causing it to fly open with a loud _creak_. Blinding sunlight assaulted the young boy’s vision outside as he found himself shoved forward. The barrel of the shotgun dug into his spine several times on their way over to the chicken coop. There, Daniel was hurled into the dust like a ragdoll in front of the still arguing father and daughter.

“ _Encontré esto en el granero!_ ” the teen exclaimed, hocking up a load of mucus and spitting on the child’s face. He threw Sean’s bag down alongside him.

“I’m sorry, I can explain!” Daniel cried.

“ _Qué estás haciendo?!_ ” the girl asked the teen. “ _Ya lo vi, él necesita ayuda!_ ”

“ _El es un criminal!_ ”

“ _Nosotros no sabemos eso!_ ” she shouted, kneeling over the child. “Are you okay?” Daniel shook his head, still cowering in the unbearable heat.

“ _Suficiente!_ ” the father said. “ _El se va.”_

“ _No ves que está asustado?!_ We don’t know his story!” the girl protested in English for Daniel’s benefit. “ _Espera Papá, por favor!_ ” She looked back at the boy and took his hand with a firm grasp. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I try to help, but they don’t listen.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that out,” Daniel sniffled, frowning at the male figures towering over him.

“ _Mi nombre es_ Angélica. What’s yours?”

“D-Daniel,” he stammered. “Daniel Diaz.” _Good bet they probably saw me on the news. No point in lying about it._

“Daniel…I can translate for you if there’s anything you want to say. _Verdad, Papá?_ ” The father glared angrily back at the boy, grumbling a question in Spanish. Angélica paused. “Uh…he wants to know why you were in our barn,” she explained as the man continued. “If you can tell us what happened, he might let you stay.”

The boy paused. His eyes fell back to the scorching sands on which he lay. He would have to consider his next responses carefully. Tread with caution. Make sure he was saying all the right things to plead his case. _Man, I wish I had my objective judge with me._ Looking back, it almost seemed comical how his entire journey had begun with little more than a Chock-O-Crisp addiction, food coloring, and corn syrup. _Okay dude, think. What are you going to say to them?_ He would have to be truthful about some things, he knew that. There was no telling what sort of news they had digested on their side of the border, but he was almost certain most of it had been negative. He was a wanted fugitive, after all. But he was also part Mexican, and in that, he knew he would have at least some leverage in relating to them.

“S-Stupid cops in America killed my dad!” he cried. “Me and my brother, we ran away from home. We were on our own. We were just trying to get to Puerto Lobos, where our family’s from. But the feds wouldn’t let us cross! My brother Sean tried to drive us through the gate. They shot at us, and…he died! He died…” Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, allowing the burning tears to flow down his softened cheeks. He felt guilty. He felt ashamed. Not just for telling what he knew was a lie, but for dishonoring the memory of his brother in the process. _Sean didn’t die for what he did. He’s dead because of me. I did that. I killed my brother._

As Angélica translated what was said for her father, the boy kept his eyes nailed shut in fear. He had no idea where to go if the man said no. _Probably just keep walking until the next town. Or until I die too._ But after a few moments, he felt that warm hand grasp his again, as if to assure him everything would be all right. Daniel opened his eyes. A response came.

“He says as long as you help with the animals and fix up the fences, you can stay the rest of the week,” the girl smiled. A rush of relief overcame him, and the boy found himself smiling back. The wolf inside him, previously ready to attack, now rested calm in the knowledge that he was safe.

“Really?” he smiled back. “Seriously?”

“ _Si_ ,” the girl nodded. Daniel let out a laugh as he settled down.

“Okay…but you have to teach me Spanish!” he chuckled.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “ _Pronto hablarás con fluidez._ ”

“What?”

“I teach you. Now get up, silly!”

“Right, uh s-sorry!” Angélica pulled him to his feet. Daniel quickly dusted himself off and grabbed the backpack from the ground, still eyeing the older boy and their father with apprehension as he pulled the strap over his shoulder. “Um _…mucho gracias_ ,” he nodded at the mustached man. Her father merely smirked and spit out a reddish brown substance on the ground. _Chewing tobacco…gross._

“ _Se ha ido si no trabaja_ ,” he muttered, walking off toward the house. Meanwhile, the young teen with dark hair slightly shorter than Daniel’s remained stoic with his shotgun, giving the two children dirty looks.

“Oh _vete a la mierda,_ Marco!” the girl snapped.

“Hmph,” he uttered. “ _Por suerte_ Julio _no lo encontró primero._ He’d be dead.” Daniel scowled back at Marco, even as the teen left them to pace around the length of the property, checking for inconsistencies in the fencing.

“Good to know I’m so welcome,” the boy frowned. “The hell is his problem anyways?”

“Don’t worry. Marco’s just an ass,” Angélica sighed.

“Well…I don’t like how he treats you.”

“Julio is worse. _Tres_ _hermanos_ …two older, one younger. My brother José is five and still cute,” she smiled. “But Marco and Julio? _Los hermanos terroristas_. Anyway come on, I’ll show you around.”

Daniel kept the young boy lumbering along the edges of the property in his sights while they followed behind at a slow pace. He recalled the brief period he’d spent with Sean on a similar ranch back in northern California at the end of the previous year. Before getting kicked out, they’d put up insane amounts of fencing, fed the animals and cleaned out pens, did some landscaping work. He hated the physical labor, but at least he had the experience. The hot desert sun, he knew, would make things more challenging.

“So…if you don’t mind telling me, how’d you learn English?” he asked.

“We get some of your American shows and radio down here,” Angélica explained. “They don’t come in clear, but it’s enough. I spent all last summer learning myself. But _mis hermanos_ still don’t know enough. They work the yard, so I teach. _Papá_ doesn’t like me getting dirty, so I had more time.”

“Well I’m glad I can talk to you,” Daniel smiled. “You’re cool. And a lifesaver. I don’t know what I’d do if nobody could understand me.”

“I know,” she said, taking his hand. A warm rush of butterflies invaded his stomach at the gesture, and yet he still felt comfortable with her in ways he hadn’t been with all the other numerous strangers he’d encountered on the road. “Can I ask something, Daniel?”

“Sure.”

“What was it like up there? Before…everything happened.”

He stopped in his tracks. A breath caught in his throat at the very thought. _Before everything happened?_ It felt like he’d lived more of his life in the past eight months than he ever had prior, and trying to remember all the finer points only gave him a headache. To Daniel Diaz, the boy who killed his own brother, there was no ‘before’. There was only the now. There was only the present and the after. The after, and the long, dark, uncertain road ahead. _No looking back._

“Uh…it was okay I guess,” the boy answered, walking on ahead of her.

“What does that mean?”

“Means I don’t want to talk about it. Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna be here long, right?”

“I don’t know. If you do a good job, _Papá_ might let you stay longer.”

“I doubt that.” _What a load of shit._ He couldn’t stay. He never got to stay, not anywhere. No matter how badly he wanted to, something bad always happened. And more often than not, it was because he couldn’t control himself. A tight feeling gripped him in the chest as he waited for Angélica to catch up. His throat began to hurt. Tears were coming, along with those annoying, shuffling footsteps of hers that drew closer to him. _Great._ The boy hung his head and looked to the dust-ridden ground, then past the fence at the sprawling desert hills beyond.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Daniel sniffled. He didn’t want to tell her. And even if he could, he had no idea where to begin. He felt angry. Lost. Betrayed by his own nature. Sad, though he hadn’t the right to be. And wanting vengeance that would never come. _Revenge against who? Myself? Whatever._ But just as Sean had instructed him to do so many times with his power, he knew he would have to learn to do the same with his emotions. Especially out here in the wild unknown, where any manner of threats might exist. _Hide them. Bury them like you buried him. Weakness means death._

“I’m all right…” he whispered. She put a hand to his right cheek. A warm, soft hand, and turned his head toward her. Then she looked into his eyes. _Stop._ “I said I’m fine!” he frowned, brushing her hand away.

“Okay, geez!” Angélica sighed as he kept walking. “ _Solo intento ayudar_ …I’m just trying to help. There’s your Spanish lesson for today.”

Daniel stopped again. “Look, I’m sorry,” he breathed, turning back. “You’ve been real nice to me, Angélica. I don’t want to be rude, it’s just…please don’t ask me about it? My brother just fucking died and I don’t want to think. I just need some space right now.”

“ _Yo tambien lo siento_ ,” she nodded. “I’m sorry too.”

“ _Gracias_ …well, guess I should start work before your dad kills me, huh?” he smirked. “What do you guys need me to do?”

“We check on the animals and the yard first. Then we eat, and you get to meet everyone,” she smiled. The two continued along on their survey of the grounds. Marco had since vanished from sight, but that no longer concerned the young wolf. For the time being at least, Daniel felt safe and secure where he was. That was always the first priority his brother had taught him upon traveling somewhere new. _‘Find shelter or build a base. You’re dead without it.’_ The second was finding food and water, which here, was a given. Next was forging connections and finding help to survive, if possible. In society of course, one had to offer help to get help. ‘ _Whatever you can do for someone, do it. Make yourself useful. They’re less likely to rat you out and more likely to save your ass if you put yourself to work. And don’t go raising a fit about it!’_

 _Don’t worry brother. I won’t this time._ He had already learned that lesson the hard way with Merrill, after all.

As he and Angélica finished their walk in relative silence around the farmyard and tended to the various animals, he kept all these things in mind. He also did his best to remember that this place was little more than a pit stop. That even the kind family who had been gracious enough to provide him with food and shelter were but a means to an end on his long journey to Puerto Lobos. But that would be difficult, he knew. Difficult because Sean was no longer there to guide him. Difficult, because he needed human connection to survive. And most of all, difficult because he’d already begun to plant the seeds of friendship with Angélica that, if watered to their full potential, might ensnare him like a dangerous weed.

For the more he was given, the more the young wolf stood to lose. Soon, he might not even want to leave, if the time came.

And that, more than anything else, scared the hell out of him.


	4. The Gift

One of the first things Daniel noticed about Marco at the dinner table was that he had a staring problem. In fact, the father did too, though less so. The mother seemed to show a genuine curiosity about their new guest, fumbling her way through what little English she knew to ask about his journey. She seemed kind, which Daniel appreciated. Julio also appeared less abrasive than he’d been led to believe, making a series of jokes in Spanish he didn’t understand. But none of them looked at him quite like Marco. Between every few bites of beans, the young boy would catch the thirteen year-old gazing at him, and whenever their eyes met, he’d quickly return to his plate as if he weren’t looking. _Strange._ But perhaps not unexpected. The world-weary wolf did feel like more of an outsider here than he had anywhere else. At least Angélica was there to check on him periodically. That was enough to put him at ease.

Soon after dinner, the boys cleaned up the dishes and helped with a few simple chores around the house. Daniel felt a tad annoyed, but scrubbing the wooden floors was certainly better than working the yard—something they would have to do the next morning when the father brought back supplies from town to fix the fencing. _Man, that’s going to suck._ The idea of keeping his powers a secret after almost a full two months of using them indiscriminately for similar work back in Away was another thing that often bothered him. With so many people watching—and understandably suspicious—it would be almost impossible to use them with any degree of discretion. _Just keep your head down_ _Daniel,_ he reminded himself while polishing up the living area. _This is what normal people do. Time to get used to it._ All in all, it wasn’t the worst. Julio took care of moving the heavier furniture to sweep behind, while Marco started at the other end. Even little José, the youngest of them, did his best to help. He seemed to enjoy splashing around more than mopping, though his laughter certainly filled any room with joy. _It’s kinda cute,_ Daniel smiled to himself. After some time, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Hola,” Angélica waved timidly. 

“Oh, h-hey!” he answered, ringing out the sponge. “ _Cómo estás?_ ”

“ _Muy buena, señor_ ,” she smiled. “Can I show you something?”

“Uh…” the boy looked around nervously at the others. Marco was glaring at him again. _Maybe I should finish up here first. And I don’t want to make their dad angry._

“Come on, it’s okay,” she assured him. “They’ll be fine.”

“Well…all right.” Daniel reluctantly stepped to his feet, leaving the sponge behind to follow her out the front door. It didn’t take him long to see what she was talking about. A cool evening breeze greeted them outside, brushing softly over their tender skin as the sun set on the distant horizon of plains and rolling hills. It should have felt far away, given the temperature. But the warmth of orange, red, and purple hues saturating the desert sky in flame somehow made it feel much closer. Larger. Ancient. An indescribable mixture of hot and cold that was as certain as it was uncertain. And, for Daniel, as painful as it was healing. “Wow…” he breathed, stepping off the wooden porch, recalling a memory of the morning he’d woken up with his brother in the canyon. _‘Sean, get up, quick! Look! It’s so-“_

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Angélica remarked.

“Yeah…”

Daniel drifted in his mind, feeling far off. Something was calling him forth. Maybe a sound carried on the wind, or the movement of an animal in the distance. Perhaps even the spirit of Sean himself. He’d found the desert to be a strange, mysterious place in the cool evenings at dusk, just before it got dark and day drifted into night. There was a calm stillness in the air. As if the door between sleep and the waking world were left open, and the living could mingle with the dead.

The boy shivered in his brother’s blood-stained hoodie and shuffled forward in a meandering path to the fence. There, he draped his arms over the splintered wood, gazing across that vast distance of desert and sky to the sunset that connected both. He thought about a lot of things in that moment. Where his father had come from, where he had come from, where he was destined to go. The landscape felt foreign, yet eerily familiar. Like a return of sorts. It felt like new life. And death.

A sudden movement caught his eye from a far. First a small one, then a larger which followed. A coyote preying upon a rabbit. For a split second, the two stopped in their tracks. The smaller creature had taken shelter near a small cactus, its eyes wide and alert. Ears rigid. Nose twitching. Watching and waiting as it surveyed the area in frantic terror, searching for its burrow. The coyote, meanwhile, stood stoic and confident. Muscles quivering. Teeth bared and salivating at the sight of its meal. The rabbit shook. The canine reared back. Rabbit took off in a quick scurry, kicking up dust as it ran. _Pointless._ And stupid. The coyote eagerly bounded after it, and with one swift bite, the tiny creature went down with a _yelp_. Coyote then leapt around, making a further series of quick jabs to choke the life from Mr. Rabbit before it took to shredding its prey apart in smug satisfaction.

_BANG._ A sudden gunshot pierced the air from the porch. There was another _yelp._ Blood splashed across the distant sand. The animal fell dead, and Daniel felt his heart stop in time with it. Muffled voices shouted behind him in Spanish as Angélica argued with Marco, but he could barely hear them now over the deafening silence. His nerves shot up to high alert. The Super Wolf was quaking inside him. Daniel squeezed his eyes shut. _Focus,_ he thought, recalling his brother’s voice. _Come on, you can do it!_ The boy strained with all his might. Flexed every muscle in his body. He held on for dear life to that fence and grit his teeth, but the sensation only grew. It was the sight of that blood. He couldn’t get it out of his head. _So much blood._

_“Enough!”_ he heard Lisbeth’s voice. _“You have spilled blood in the Lord’s home.”_

_“Daniel, what are you doing?! STOP!”_

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry…I’m sorry,” he chanted. A cold sweat overcame him. He clutched at the stained neck of his brother’s hoodie with one hand, clawed at the faded Squad logo with the other. His stomach turned. More muffled screams and shouts. More memories of violence as the siblings fought behind him. More thoughts about the absence of Sean, and every stupid decision he’d made to get here. _It’s not like I’ll be here long,_ he reminded himself. _I never am._ And what then? Where else would he go, without his brother? _I’m a ghost,_ he thought, staggering away from the fence. _This isn’t real. None of it is._ “Fuck…fuck!” he panted and paced, railing against the madness of his thudding heart while gasping for air. He felt like shredding his skin off, it felt so hot.

“ _Hey_ …hey!” Angélica’s voice shifted into focus as she grasped his shoulder.

“ _Lo que está mal con él?_ ” her brother asked.

“ _Trae un poco de agua, por favor!_ ” 

“Mmm…my head,” Daniel strained, backing away from her. Light jabs of pain shot through his skull every few seconds. He could feel his power extending itself. Bits of gravel and dust particles were already rising at his feet. “I have to go, I have to get out of here!”

“No, shhh, it’s okay!”

“N-No, you don’t understand! I could hurt you! Everyone around me, they…they get hurt,” he breathed

“Here, take this,” she said, grabbing his wrist as Marco returned with a cup of water. “Just drink and take deep breaths, okay?”

“I can’t!” the boy trembled. He tore free of the hoodie and tucked it beneath his arm.

“W-Whatever.” He snatched the blue plastic cup from her hands, splashing liquid over himself in the process as he gulped it down quickly. Then he stopped. He looked her in the eyes as she gazed at him. A little longer than he meant to. Perhaps longer than he should have. In either case, his breathing slowed. She extended a hand to his face, brushing the charcoal locks from his eyes. Finally, he began to steady. The gravel at his feet dropped. His heart rate slowed with the tender grasp of her hand in his. _Breathe, enano. You’re doing great._ He closed his eyes.

“That’s it, just keep breathing,” Angélica said, rubbing his upper arm. “It’s okay…it’s okay, I’m here. You’re not alone.” She pressed her forehead against his as they stood there in the silence. For a moment, Daniel took solace in the darkness. Time had stopped. The memories, however, hadn’t.

_“What are we going to do without him?” the boy cried._

_“Shhh…it’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay.”_

“Whew,” he whispered, taking a deep breath. Warm tears cascaded down his face, though this time, they were tears of comfort. He opened his eyes again. “Thank you,” he said. She gave a curt nod and stroked his cheek. Off in the distance, Marco muttered a series of curses at them in Spanish, along with something that sounded like ‘I hate coyotes’ as he stomped onto the porch. Daniel glanced back at the boy, who only shook his head and tore open the screen door. It made a loud _creak_ , then slammed shut with a _bang_. At least that one was expected. “Man, what’s up with your brother?” he sniffled, composing himself.

“We’re not used to guests around here.”

“But…Julio doesn’t act that way.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Anyway… _lo siento_. He doesn’t think when she shoots.”

“Yeah,” Daniel frowned, moving away from her. “I guess a lot of people don’t.” His breathing grew momentarily heavier at the thought of his father and the stupid cop that had killed him. He turned back for the house, dusting himself off. Tears were coming again. Tears he knew were better off shed alone.

“Hey, wait!” Angélica called. “You sure you’re okay?”

The boy shrugged. “I should just get back to work. Not really in the mood for sunsets right now.” Daniel found himself tearing through the screen door with as much anger as Marco had. The dusk sky with all its pretty colors should have been a moment to enjoy, he understood that much. But all he could think about was that dead coyote laying out in the desert. As dead as he now felt inside, and as dead as his father and brother were. All lives that had been cut tragically short when all they were trying to do was survive and care for their young. It wasn’t fair. Marco was stupid, and he hated him all the more for it.

Once inside, he saw their mother down on her hands and knees, quietly finishing up the scrubbing work with the other boys he had abandoned. Daniel expected some sort of reprimanding for it. Instead, the woman simply wiped her brow and smiled at him as she rose to her feet. She said something in Spanish he didn’t quite understand, but he knew they were words of kindness when she ruffled his hair and leaned in to kiss him on either cheek. The young wolf smiled back. Something about their interaction immediately put him at ease. He no longer felt as angry. She gently patted his stomach as she spoke further. _She wants to know if I ate enough,_ he reasoned, nodding yes and thanking her for supper.

“Ah _, ven conmigo, ven!_ ” she said happily, guiding him through a doorway and up the flight of stairs that led to the second floor. “ _Tengo algo para ti._ ”

He still didn’t understand what she was saying, but she seemed rather excited by something. As they rounded the corner to the right, she led him back to the boys’ bedroom with blue walls they’d shown him to earlier that day. It was about half the size of his own back in Seattle, and slightly smaller than the guest room at Claire and Stephen’s. Daniel hated having to share such a small space with the two teens, but he had no right to argue. For now, it was home.

Their bunk, along with his bed on the right he noticed, had been made up with fresh green linens. The air smelled of cinnamon-scented candles, maybe sandalwood. But he guessed that wasn’t what she meant to show him. His gaze then fell to something red draped over his pillow, which she eagerly stepped forward to grab. The kind woman unfolded it and held it up with pride for him to see.

“No way!” the boy grinned happily. His newly resewn Space Mission shirt was a welcome sight after wearing the Mt. Rainier one for the day. By the looks of it, the mother had spent hours patching up the tattered thing using a red and white fabric with Native American designs. Even the bottoms of the sleeves were accented with them in a zigzagging stitch. “It’s so _awesome!_ ” Daniel found himself moved to tears at the second life—or maybe third—his favorite garment had been given as she handed it to him, and he spread it across himself. “ _Gracias_ ,” he cried, embracing the mother he almost wished were his own. _If I was fully Mexican, I’d want a mom just like you,_ he thought.

But in the back of his mind, he still heard Sean’s voice. It came through much clearer in these moments, often more of a curse than it was a comfort. As if his brother were still somehow guiding him from beyond the grave, beyond the sunset, from beyond the window behind the loving mother, and beyond the storm clouds now enveloping the full moon in the evening desert sky.

_“Don’t get too comfortable here. We still need to get to Puerto Lobos.”_

_Shut up. You’re dead. I’m the only wolf left, and I’ll be fine without you…_


	5. The Espinoza Wolves

Around ten that evening, Daniel was provided with fresh towels and a washcloth and told to shower. He didn’t want to. Something about seeing what he looked like under his clothes for the first time since he’d left Away made him anxious. All the cuts, scrapes, dirt, bruises, and blood—some of which was surely Sean’s—it scared him to have to see. But being that he was the guest, the mother had insisted he be the first of the boys to wash up. Everyone aside from his new bunkmates were already heading off to bed.

And so for twenty solid minutes, the young boy stood in front of the floor-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, clad in only his green boxer briefs. For the first time in days, he looked over the story of himself with the utmost attention. He couldn’t stop shaking. What he saw bothered him. His hands certainly felt soft after all the sponging he’d done on the wooden floors earlier. The rest of him wasn’t so soft anymore. As he ran his tender fingers over the length of his lithe body, something about it triggered immediate memories. If he stared long enough, he was able to recall every fated second of that last day with his brother.

 _This bruise is from when I fell after the vigilantes shot at me. These cuts are from pieces of glass when the windshield cracked as they shot at us. This is from when I got up from the bed in the infirmary, and guards knocked me down. The blood on my neck…that’s definitely Sean’s. I don’t want to wash it off. Ever. And I don’t care if I stink. I can’t take a shower tonight._ He looked too, at his face. Staring into his own deep brown eyes. Eyes that had seen so much in his short life, eyes that were tired and weary. Eyes that held far too many secrets. He wondered what Angélica saw in them. He began to worry that one day, maybe those secrets would come spilling out of them if she happened to hold his hand for just long enough. _Stop. You can’t get attached._

“Ouch!” he gasped, stumbling back from the mirror. A sharp pain shot down his arm if he moved it too much. It had been aching all day in fact, though he’d done his best to ignore it. The wound from Madison’s bullet still had yet to fully heal—a fact he’d realized upon removing his shirt. A bit of blood had soaked through the bandages at some point while cleaning the floors earlier, though fortunately hadn’t touched his Mt. Rainier shirt. That would’ve been bad.

 _Okay, Daniel. Just stop and take a shower. You still have Sean’s hoodie. You don’t need to wear him on your skin forever._ The boy sighed and slipped out of his underwear. The sight of soft, dark hairs beginning to sprout in his nether regions caught him off guard a moment. _Whoa,_ he smirked. All that running around had forced him to grow up in more ways than one. Still, it felt odd. He raised his left arm to examine his pits. Hair was growing there, too. _Guess I really am a Super Wolf._ A sudden knock came on the door, and he jumped back. Marco or Julio, he wasn’t sure which, grumbled something at him in Spanish.

“ _Darse prisa!_ ”

“Shit, sorry!” the boy called. “I-I’m starting now.”

“ _Aye, cabrón._ ”

Daniel didn’t know what that meant, but he was sure it was nothing good. He turned to the tub and ran the water for what seemed an appropriate length of time to heat up, then stepped in with a gasp. It was ice cold. He quickly came to the realization it stayed that way, no matter which dial he turned. _Great. Just like Mom’s shower in Away. But at least there, it was nice after being in the heat all day._ He made it a point to scrub down as fast as he could. By the time he was finished and twisted the knobs, large black streaks were left in the tub.

“Damn, it was that bad?” he whispered. “Shit.” He started the water again, cupping his hands to rinse the rest of it down, then pulled back the curtain and stepped out to grab his towel. _I’m wide away now. That was too refreshing. Definitely taking my showers in the morning from now on._ After wiping himself off and drying his hair to the point of damp, he wrapped the towel around his waist and went for the sink counter to get his clothes. _Pajama pants from Marco, check. Space Mission shirt, check. Sean’s hoodie…missing._

“What the fuck?!” Daniel snatched his folded clothes from the counter and stormed out, rounding the corner back to the boys’ bedroom at the end of the hall. _I swear to fucking god I’ll kill them if they touched my shit._ Their door was closed, with a sliver of light emanating from the bottom. _Bet it’s locked too. Cowards._ The boy could already feel the familiar Super Wolf rage as it boiled his blood. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He was ready to throw them up against the walls. Or crunch their spines against the radiator. Or throw them out the window. He briefly entertained the thought of using his power to break down the door, which would have sent the best message, but he restrained himself. _Probably shouldn’t do anything to get kicked out._

The boy reached for the knob and charged through, tossing the clothes down. His mouth dropped open at what he saw. Marco was wearing the hoodie. Julio, meanwhile, had dug through his backpack. The pair had set out his belongings on the bed for examination, having a laugh over some items while looking with curiosity at others. Marco had just picked up Sean’s journal to begin devouring its contents. Daniel wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Dude, what the FUCK!” he shouted, swiping it from his grasp. Julio dropped the Power Bear toy and immediately backed away. Marco, however, was more confrontational.

“What you going to do about it _puta_ , eh?” he shoved him back. “Our room, our rules. We share everything. Get used to it!”

“I never said you could touch my shit! Now give me my hoodie back. Before something bad happens to you.” The boy huffed and grit his teeth, straining to stay calm as he tensed every last muscle in his body. _If I wreck this room, I’m gone._

Marco turned back to his brother with a laugh and said something in Spanish before he faced Daniel again. 

“You want it back, you have to earn, _Señor Criminal!_ ” he smirked.

Daniel lunged forward and grabbed the boy by the collar, yanking him forward.

“I had to take that off my brother’s dead body, asshole! I have _no_ problem taking it off yours!”

Marco laughed again and patted him on the cheek. The boy was taken aback by the gesture.

“ _Eres muy lindo._ ”

“What?”

“‘What? What?’” he mocked. “ _Aprender Español, estupido!”_ Julio stepped forward to join his brother. Daniel let go and fell back. Not because he felt outnumbered. That was never an issue. But all it took was one slip for them to get him kicked out, and he quickly came to the conclusion he wouldn’t even need his powers for that to happen. _Their house, their rules,_ he scoffed. _I fucking hate this._

“F-Fine!” he spat. “What do I have to do?”

Julio whispered something in Marco’s ear. They both giggled. Marco looked back at the concerned young boy, who froze as he felt a hand grasp his bare hip. _Shit, what do they want?_ The teen leaned in close to his face.

“Run naked through the yard,” he smirked, ripping the towel off and shoving the boy onto the bed. Daniel’s own belongings dug into his tender skin like blunt knives. Enraged, he pushed himself up, but the two brothers had already bolted out of the room to leave him naked, cold, and far angrier than before.

“Fuck!” he clenched, slamming the open door shut with his power. He scrambled off the bed and quickly pulled on the pile of clothes he’d dropped upon entry. Then he headed downstairs and snuck out the front door into the dark of night.

* * *

“Where are those stupid pricks?” Daniel shivered as he stepped off the dimly lit porch. No matter how much he got used to it, he always hated the chilly desert nights _._ This one wasn’t as bad as in the canyons at Away, but he was still damp from the shower. To make matters somewhat worse, the soft fabric of the skull-patterned pajama pants kept brushing over his crotch as he walked. Now he had another reason to be uncomfortable—even if it did feel nice. _Great. A boner’s just what I need right now._ He thought about rummaging through their dresser for underwear, but there wasn’t time. And he wasn’t about to cause any more noise. 

“Shit,” Daniel sighed. He was getting hard. _Sean told me about this random bullshit._ He hadn’t expected it so soon. _Guess this is a thing now._ It had happened several times that day so far, and he already hated it. It seemed like just one more thing on a list of many that seemed out of his control. _Gotta love growing up._ He reached down and tucked his stiffened member into the waistband, adjusting the drawstrings to hide it. Still not comfortable by any means, but it did the trick. “Okay…now to get my hoodie back.”

Daniel plodded on through the dark, keeping his eyes peeled for any sudden movements. The large pen where the horses roamed free during the day looked empty. _Too open of a spot to hide anyway._ _Duh._ A gentle breeze blew over his face from the nearby hills. The yard was quiet as a whisper, save for the soft clucking of chickens in the coop as they settled to sleep. The desert beyond, however, was awash in a chorus of wild sounds. Echoes of scampering movements, occasional crickets, the hissing of snakes, howling coyotes. A much eerier place at night. Daniel wondered what sort of creatures might be feasting on the remains of the coyote and rabbit Marco had killed come morning. _Probably vultures, like those brothers. That’s what they are, since they stole from the dead. They definitely aren’t wolves. Not like me and Sean._

Distant laughter emanated from far behind him. Daniel snapped to attention and looked back over the yard. There it was again. _Giggle, giggle._ It was definitely coming from the barn, along with an assortment of flashing white lights. _I’ll be the one laughing when I cut your stupid throats._ He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sauntered forward with determination. It occurred to him that out here, no one could see him use his powers if he really had to. And he was ready.

Along the way up to the barn, his foot hit something firm and metallic. He stopped. It looked like a soda can. Curious, he knelt down and picked it up. _Not a soda._

“Beer?” he raised an eyebrow. Wherever it had come from, it was still cold. Daniel decided to take it with him. It was a good bet the boys were probably up to something they weren’t supposed to be doing. And though the thought scared him, it also excited him. _Should I bust them? Nah, I ain’t a snitch. Don’t give a shit what they do anyways. I just want my hoodie._ He continued on toward the large wooden door, pulling it open as quietly as he could. It still creaked.

“Ah, _mierde_ ,” Julio sighed, looking back in his direction. He and Marco sat cross-legged in the center of the barn surrounded by an assortment of candles and two flashlights pointed upward. Several cans of beer sat aside them both. As Daniel inched closer and pulled the door shut, he noticed an open tin box. Lines of small toy soldiers were set up on the floor between them, along with dice. Marco held a fan of playing cards in his hand.

“The hell are you guys doing?” the boy asked. Something about the cold outside had softened his rage a bit. Now, he was more curious than angry.

“Not your busyness!” Marco snapped. Daniel chuckled as he plodded over with the beer in hand.

“Dude, it’s ‘business’. And I want my hoodie back. Now.”

“ _Cállate._ Sit,” the teen patted the floor. Daniel begrudgingly did as instructed. “We play a game. If you win, you get it back.”

He wasn't in the mood. But he knew if he didn't go along, he wouldn't be able to sleep that night. "Uh...what kind of a game?”

“ _Poker erótico_!” Julio laughed. Marco leaned forward and slapped him. He shut up quick.

“ _Se llama_ Risk!” he insisted.

“Risk?” Daniel cracked up. “You guys don’t even have a board! Or a map.” Marco looked insulted. “Okay look, uh…you got a marker?” They both looked confused. “Like a pen, um…boli…that’s not it. Shit, um, ruh… _rotulador?_ ” It was hard to remember what little Spanish Angélica had taught him that day, but they both seemed to understand. Julio dug a black Sharpie from his pocket and handed it over. “Yes!” Daniel smiled. “Okay. Is it cool if I write on the floor?” They both shrugged. “All right. Here,” he said, drawing a crude ship on the wooden planks. “It’s a game _mi hermano_ and I used to play. It’s called Ship, Captain, Crew, and you use the dice.”

“ _Los dados_ ,” Marco taught him, picking up the small red cubes.

“Yeah! _El dado, los dados_?” he asked, pointing to one, then both.

“Si,” Marco nodded.

“Cool,” Daniel smiled. “Glad we can learn from each other.”

Over the course of the next hour however, teaching them how the game worked proved to be a more difficult task than he’d thought. The Spanish he'd begun to pick up certainly made things easier. But Marco knew some English words that Julio didn’t, and Julio knew ones that Marco didn’t, which was a frustrating challenge. Their conversations at times devolved into frantic attempts to understand one another through pantomiming and scribbled drawings.

Somewhere in his long line of explaining, Daniel had cracked open the beer sooner than he’d meant to. Then he had a second. By the time he was halfway through it, the trio had finished several rounds of the game and sat around telling ghost stories littered with crude jokes in between. Julio provided a pack of cigarettes that Daniel refused to touch. Before long, Marco had dug down into the tin box to lift a piece of cardboard cut to size. Beneath it, an assortment of old cigar cards portraying nude women was hidden. They looked like something from the fifties or sixties. Julio scoffed and provided his own entertainment in the form of better dirty mags hidden in a corner of the barn beneath one of the floorboards.

In all of the drunken craziness, size comparisons, and laughter that followed, Daniel realized something important. He was actually beginning to enjoy himself. Perhaps for the first time since all the dark events that had come to define his short, young life. Meeting the other boys at first seemed scary, sure. And they could be intimidating when they wanted to. Especially Marco. But in a way, these brothers were starting to feel like family to him, and he felt a new obligation to protect them if necessary.

Or at least that was the last rational thought he could muster before the alcohol took over and they’d run off into the desert.

* * *

_We ran for the hills that night. Proud wolves, all three of us. Beating our naked, youthful chests in the summer air as our feet pounded a path over barren earth, wild and untamed. We howled at the full moon from the summit. We laughed together. We huddled together. I could see the heat of their breath swirling around me like ancient ghosts. Their warmth kept me warm, especially Marco's. He hugged me from behind and held me close, the touch of his soft, golden skin against mine igniting a rush like none other. For whatever reason, I knew I wanted to be close to him. For us to melt together in the swirling winds and awaken with the morning dawn, as I’d done so many times with Sean._

_I felt content again for the first time in a long time. Like I was part of a pack again, and nothing could ever tear us apart. We laid down in the soil near a cactus awhile. Me sandwiched between them, while Marco held my hand. We pointed out the stars and constellations to each other. I can’t explain how I knew, but in that moment, I sensed the great ancestors of the past were smiling down on us. Mayan gods, Aztec gods, the forefathers of the first Mexicans to ever exist. Their footsteps followed ours, their braced heels dancing a sacred rhythm at our heads. The spirits were alive within and around us that night. A strange call of the wild that sucked us into the half-world between life and death. Even the hills seemed to glow when we finally rose to our feet and headed back toward the flickering lights that led us home._

_The path back to the other side through an endless sea of dark seemed long, I’ll admit. But not in a way that I was so eager to return. After all, the ocean of stars above us provided a dazzling illumination, and certainly enough chances to reflect. I finally asked for a cigarette from Julio. Sean used to have one when he needed to think. I guess I figured it might help me too._

_I thought about a lot of things on the way back to the house that night. Where I had come from, where I was going. How much sense it even made to still be going to Puerto Lobos, as if that were the only place on earth I might find a sense of peace. The more time I spent with the Espinoza wolves, the farther away it seemed in my mind. Part of me still wanted to go. But part of me wanted to stay. Because I had found a new family again, and like all kids do, I didn’t want such moments to end. I would do whatever I had to in order to keep it, preserve it, protect it._

_Looking back, I now realize...that was my first mistake._


End file.
